The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(66)

“I. Am. Not,” Khai bit out.

“The fuck you’re not. You’re an all-or-nothing guy, so we knew the first girl to catch your attention would be the one. Esme is your ‘one,’ Khai.”

“I don’t have a ‘one.’ I don’t do relationships.” He walked down the sidewalk a block, looking all around. Where was she?

Shit, was she safe? This didn’t look like a shady area, but that wasn’t any kind of guarantee. Adrenaline spiked, and his heart crashed against his ribs as he dug his phone out and tried her number again.

Straight to voice mail again.

Dammit.

“Why won’t she pick up?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

Quan answered anyway. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. You don’t tell a girl you don’t love her and then ask her to marry you. I don’t know what you were thinking.”

Khai crammed his phone back in his pocket impatiently. “She needs a green card. I can give her one. It’s that simple. I even told her I’d be willing to give her a divorce as soon as everything was official. She should have been happy. She shouldn’t have said no and run.”

Instead of speaking right away, Quan exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face as he shook his head. “Shiiiiit.”

At least they were in agreement about something. This situation was exactly shit.

“Why are you willing to do all that for her if you’re not into relationships?” Quan asked with narrowed eyes.

Khai looked away from his brother and shrugged. “I’m used to her, and it’s okay living together. Why not?”

Quan threw his hands up in the air. “Great reasons for marriage. I’m gonna go back to the wedding. If you hear from her, let me know.”

As Quan stomped back to the wedding tent, Khai returned to his car and got inside. Her high heels lay on the passenger side at uneven angles, and he searched the interior of the car in excitement. Until he remembered she’d left them here before going in.

He drove around aimlessly, searching the streets, sidewalks, benches, and shop fronts for a woman in a loose black dress and no shoes. He didn’t see her anywhere.

When he stopped in front of the same traffic light for the fourth time, he acknowledged it was time to give up. She had her phone and purse and knew how to take care of herself. If she didn’t want to be found, there was no point in looking. Even so, he’d stay close just in case.

He pulled his car into a random parking spot by the beach, cranked the brake, and turned off the engine. Then he sat and waited, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared up at the darkened sky.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



Bright light pooled on top of Esme’s eyelids, and she winced and rubbed at her face, scattering little bottles from the minibar onto the floor. The TV was still on, and the hotel room’s ceiling wouldn’t stop spinning.

Or maybe she was the one spinning.

She pushed herself up, and bile surged up her throat as the room tilted. Oh no. She panic-ran to the bathroom, and her knees hit the cold tile just as she threw up in the toilet.

Over and over, until it felt like her eyes were exploding. When it finally stopped, she rinsed out her mouth and gazed blearily at her face in the mirror. She’d vomited so hard she’d left little red dots on her upper cheeks and around her eyes. On top of that, her hair was a tangled mess, she still wore the black dress from yesterday, and she smelled horrible. If her mom and grandma could see her now, they’d be so disappointed.

They’d tell her to crawl back to Kh?i’s where it was safe, thank him for offering to marry her, and get the marriage certificate signed before he changed his mind. Jade needed him.

But a one-sided love would destroy Esme, not to mention set a horrid example for her daughter to follow. Esme was not going back.

She found her phone, located Phil Schumacher’s phone number, and called him again. It rang several times before it disconnected without going to voice mail. So she called again. Halfway through the first ring, a recording played. “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”

What did that mean?

She tried again. And again, halfway through the first ring, the message came on, “The person you are trying to reach is unavailable.”

He must have blocked her number. He might be her dad, and he’d blocked her. It made her stomach drop and her pride hurt, but she told herself that was fine.

She didn’t need him.

She didn’t need anyone.

Maybe she was still drunk off minibar drinks, and maybe she was being overly emotional, but as she stood in that cheap motel room alone, truly alone, she swore she was going to do things by herself from here on out. She wasn’t good enough for Kh?i or this mysterious Phil Schumacher, but she was good enough for herself.

She didn’t need a man for anything. She only needed her own two hands. As she washed her hair and scrubbed the sand from the wedding off her feet in the plastic shower, a fire raged in her heart. She didn’t know how, but she was going to prove her worth. She’d show everyone.

She spent the day setting up a new independent life. She took a bus to Milpitas and searched the area by C? Nga’s restaurant for apartments, found a place that offered month-long leases and signed the contract, and went shopping for apartment supplies and new clothes. She’d rather walk around naked than ask Kh?i for her things. He could have them.